


European

by Losille



Series: The Hollywood Series [1]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losille/pseuds/Losille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny the wardrobe assistant always thought Alexander was gay and European. However, she's pleasantly surprised that is not the case during one afternoon fitting with the attractive man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	European

Benny took the marking chalk from its resting place behind her ear and tapped it absently on the cutting board, debating the piece of fabric lying in front of her. She had been staring at this same piece of fabric for hours and still no inspiration had found her.

The plain black, cheap cloth in question was probably from some bargain bin at the craft store the costuming director had wandered into on one of her days off and decided to pick up "just in case". Now at the end of the filming season, however, it was left unused. Everyone had been given their pick of the remaining scraps and bolts of fabric that would not be returning for the next season and hadn't been doomed to HBO back lots for other shows and movies. Since no one wanted it, it meant the fabric left was pretty terrible. But she was glad to have something to work with.

She was the only one working this afternoon, so it was quiet. Now she just needed her muse.

She wouldn't say it was stifling to work as an assistant costumer, but it certainly limited her creativity when she was following someone else's vision. And in some cases, completely bored the muse right out of her. However, having just graduated fashion school, she needed the job to survive and it was reasonably paying for such an entry-level position. It wasn't like she really could complain either; this had turned into a HUGE hit and it would look amazing on a resume if she played her cards right.

This was not including the fact that she got to work with some very talented, very attractive men and women. She wasn't as attracted to the women as she was the men, but they were positives all around. The sad part about it all, though, was that they were actors. Having been born and raised in California her whole life, especially in Los Angeles proper for the majority of it, she learned very early on actors were a dime a dozen. They came and they went. But the majority were the same type of person.

Straight, handsome actors were difficult to find. Though she had not spent a lot of time with any of the actors beyond her required wardrobe duties or wrap parties, she wasn't completely sure any of them weren't gay. Well, Stephen was straight by evidence of his relationship with Anna on and off set. And she was pretty sure that a few of the lesser actors were straight because she had met wives and girlfriends (who came in to give their two cents worth on how costumes should be designed). But there were just some things that she was witness to that made her question some of the supposed "straight" men on set. Fashion choices were one of them. Alexander Skarsgard's predilection for cutoff pants and open-chested shirts was nearly a dead giveaway as far as she was concerned. But she liked to keep an open mind. He could have just been European.

She chuckled to herself and shook her head. Glancing down at her cloth, she grumbled and tossed the chalk across the table. It skidded to a halt against a stack of scraps.

So much for a muse. She was thinking about one of her possibly, maybe, most likely gay coworkers.

"Damn you to hell!" she muttered, wadding up the fabric. It caught on an open seam ripper and tore. "Cheap fucking fabric."

Someone cleared their throat behind her and she jumped, whirling around to find the tall Swedish man who had interrupted her thoughts standing there, his hands in his pockets.

"Should I come back later?" he asked.

Benny frowned. "Uh, why are you here anyway?"

"I have a fitting... at three... with you," he replied and looked at his watch. "I'm a little late. It's 3:10."

"Oh," she said, her brain working overtime trying to recollect her schedule. "Oh! Shoot. I completely forgot about it."

He gave her a small smile. "I can come back later if you're not ready."

"No, no... I'm good. Your stuff is set out already. I just lost track of time," she replied, heading over to the rack of clothing that was hanging out for him. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt and inspected them for a minute before turning back and holding them out to him. "You know the drill."

Alexander nodded and took the clothes. He eyed her for a moment with an amused expression, and she suddenly felt self-conscious. She'd not been paying attention earlier. Did she have chalk on her face? Momentarily mortified, she watched him walk over to the dressing curtain and step behind it. She moved toward one of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors and looked at herself. Nothing out of the ordinary. There wasn't any chalk powder. Her hair hadn't really cooperated this morning so she had thrown it back into a messy pony, where it had stayed unmoving but for a few renegade wisps. She'd not bothered with makeup. And she was having a mildly break-out free month. What had he been looking at?

The possibility that he was looking at her did cross her mind briefly, but she pushed it away. She was being ridiculous. Even if he wasn't gay, he wouldn't look at her twice. He'd be out with those other beautiful actresses he shared the stage with. Or those overstuffed, fake-boobed makeup artists and hair stylists that laid all over him when they got the chance. To be fair, though, he was as much to blame for their attentions as they were. He was an unconscionable flirt with them. But she could hate them for their beautiful, blonde Playboy looks.

Benny snorted and rolled her eyes, turning back around to find that Alexander was looking her over again as he fixed the cuffs on his shirt. She ran her hands over her clothes, trying to calm the nervous thoughts running through her head and walked over to him. She'd done countless fittings with him before this, why was she so out of sorts now? He took the stool she pointed to and she grabbed her own to sit down on to inspect the hem of the pants.

"I don't know how you do it every time," he said, "but they're too long."

Benny laughed and shrugged. "It's easier to take up than let down."

"I guess so," he said.

She smiled, shaking her head. She grabbed her pin cushion and began the process of pinning up the denim fabric. As she did this, she found herself considering his feet. They were large with high arches... which should have been suspected of a man who stood six-four on a bad day, but despite all her time spent down here, she had never really noticed until now. Of course, her mind did the inopportune thing and wondered if his foot size was directly proportional to his--

"My mother could never find clothes that fit me," he interrupted her thoughts. "One time, she bought a pair of pants, and the first time I had a chance to wear them a week later, they were too short."

Benny glanced up at him. His head was a long way up. And now that she noticed it, he had to stand slightly hunched over on the stool so his head didn't hit the roof in the small trailer. She pushed away from him.

"Step down onto the ground," she said. "I'll kneel down and do it."

"You've been doing this for an entire season and you're just noticing I hunch now?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well, I've noticed it before, I just haven't cared to let you have it easy," she replied with a grin.

He clucked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head. "What have I ever done to you?"

She sighed. "Just the mere fact you exist."

"You can't just leave it at that," he said.

Benny sighed. "Many of my female family members watch the show and are in love with Eric," she replied. "I don't hear the end of it."

He laughed. "Oh, I thought it was because of the Fun Bag Twins."

Benny froze in her movements as she repositioned herself on the ground. She looked at him curiously. "The Fun Bag Twins?"

"Marianna and Laura in makeup and hair," he said.

She pursed her lips.

"I have nothing to say about them," she lied.

But she had every reason to now wonder how he had picked up on her obvious dislike of the Fun Bag Twins. She had never heard them called that. Certainly, she'd heard other epithets for them around set, but none were so blatantly proclaimed. And why had he even brought it up anyway? It wasn't like she paid much attention when he was being pestered by them, even though he seemingly enjoyed the attention.

Really, she didn't pay any attention to him.

At all.

He shrugged and graced her with the small little boy smile she found oddly sexy. She imagined many other women did, too.

She knelt down and began working on one leg again. After a few moments of pinning and a long pregnant silence, she sighed. "My objection with them lies in my objection to all women who are like them. Not because they're paying attention to you."

"Oh," he said.

She thought she detected a hint of sadness in his voice when she had said that, but then again, he could have just been flirting with her like he did with all the other females on set. The flirting may have been unintentional, and something he did naturally, but it was flirting plain and true. It wasn't new to her-- he had done it to all the women who had a fitting with him. He could literally charm the pants right off someone and they wouldn't know what had hit them until he was back in Sweden.

She stuck a few pins in her mouth as she moved over to his other leg. It was a few minutes more of complete and utter silence before he sighed and let out a low chuckle. The chuckle wasn't just any low chuckle, though. It was seductive and spoke of many irredeemable thoughts running through his head.

Glancing up at him curiously, she saw that the grin was back on his lips. Benny was sure she would have had to be dead to say the trademark smile didn't affect her. Because it did. Horribly. One occasion in which she received such a blinding flash of his teeth had caused her to go completely dumb for a minute. And boy, hadn't that been fun to try to explain to him.

"What?" she asked, looking back at his pant leg and slipping another pin into place.

"Nothing," he muttered. He paused a moment. "I was just thinking how you've spent all season kneeling in front of me and I haven't even taken you to dinner."

Benny felt the heat on her face at his remark. Something was off. Despite the fact Alexander was an incorrigible flirt and charmer, he had never once been so incredibly vulgar about it. Oh, certainly, the innuendo had been there, but he'd never just come right out and said such a thing.

And then she realized just what he'd actually meant by saying it, and she swallowed hard. Had he really intended to ask her out? They barely knew each other outside of shop talk.

And she was still pretty sure he was gay, not just European.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked.

She glanced up at him a moment before rolling back onto her haunches and standing. At full extension of her height, she reached his chest, and if she stood on her tiptoes, she could just see over his shoulders. It literally just hit her for the first time how incredibly large a man he was and how easy it would be for him to overpower her... were he that kind of man. He wasn't, though. He'd never been anything but respectful to those around him. Except, perhaps, for the Fun Bag Twins.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

"Gee, Alexander, I'd love to grab a bite sometime," he said.

Benny sighed and moved behind him. She stepped up onto the stool he'd been on earlier and smoothed her hands over his shoulders and back, making sure the fit was correct for his shirt. She tried not to blush again, though, as she felt the muscles beneath her hands shift with his movements and low breathing. They really were impressive, to say the least.

"Why are you blushing?" he asked.

Benny looked up, her eyes meeting Alexander's intensely probing blue gaze in the long mirror in front of them. The blush on her cheeks grew deeper.

"You're never this quiet," he remarked.

She shrugged. "Just having an off day?"

He gave her a skeptical look. "Every single day I have come in here, you have talked my ear off about something or other. And now you won't say anything. What's up?"

"Nothing," she said. Had she really been so talkative around him? It was an extremely upsetting thought. However, now that she thought about it, every time he has been around in the past, she had babbled. But today was different for some reason. Had she finally been babbled out?

_No._ Benny thought. _It's because if I open my mouth today I'll regret saying something._

"I'm not complaining," he said as she turned back to her work. "I mean, I like listening to you talk. It's very relaxing listening to your easy Western cadence."

She frowned, stepping down off of the stool and walking around him. As she did, she ran her hands down his front. Just like every other time she had done this when fitting him, he shuddered, but didn't say anything about it. This was also interesting to her. Funny that while she had noticed it was common place enough to happen often, she had never really thought about it. She had passed it off as possibly being a ticklish spot and nothing more. However, this time she noticed a change in the room as he shuddered.

"Okay," she said, deciding she needed to get away from him for a few moments. She moved quickly to the clothes rack and pulled off the second shirt she needed to fit on him. Walking back over, she handed him the dress shirt. He reached for it, and made a concerted effort to touch her. Benny felt a spark of something on her hand where he had grazed as he pulled away.

Shaking her head, she turned back around to go busy herself doing something else... anything else... to get her mind off of Alexander. But a hand caught her elbow. A very large, very strong hand caught her elbow, and turned her back around to him with little effort.

Before she could regain her ground, though, his lips were on hers. At least, she was pretty sure that was what was happening. She was very dizzy from the sudden spinning motion of her body, and now the kiss was making her dizzier. As soon as their lips touched, Benny felt a tingling, exciting electric charge overcome her body. He was possessive at first, claiming her, as though he were trying to make her understand a point. Gradually he lessened the pressure and pulled back slightly. Deciding he had done exactly what he wanted, he let go of her and stepped away, unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing.

Benny reached out for something to hold onto for support. Her legs were like Jello and world was suddenly sent adrift on a roaring white water rapid ride. She closed her eyes and turned away from him, unable to look at him as he undressed.

Okay, so he wasn't gay. European. Only European.

And he was making a show of undressing slowly. He turned around, and she was certain it was on purpose, as he pulled on the new shirt, showing her his expansive, amazingly toned back. Benny bit her tongue, praying the whimper she felt rise in her throat didn't escape.

She stood there, confused and turned on all at the same time. That it involved Alexander surprised her immensely.

Now she knew for a fact that he was not gay, she viewed him in a new light. Or, perhaps, she had always viewed him in this light, but had done the right thing and pushed it away. Who was she to think that he would be into her, were he not gay, when he had beautiful women like Rutina, Ashley, Anna... or the ubiquitous Fun Bag Twins to look at every day.

"Wow," she heard herself say belatedly.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Come on and fit me for this so I can take you out before I have to be back for my call."

"Who said I accepted?" she asked.

He looked across the room at her and stopped buttoning. Before she knew what was happening, he was in front of her again and kissing her. Much the same way as before, but this time he kissed her until she was convinced. However, as he was beginning to pull away a second time, she reached up and placed her hands on his neck and held him in place; it didn't take much strength because he hadn't wanted to leave either. His hands rested on her shoulders and gradually slipped down her arms and onto her waist. She grazed her teeth against his lower lip, and his fingers curled into her cloth-covered flesh in response before his arms grabbed her up to him, holding her in place.

There she could feel the evidence of his arousal—the rather impressive evidence of his arousal. And she was lost. It had been an incredibly long time since she'd had any connection with a man outside of some of her male friends. Her body was screaming for this attention, any attention, from a man. That it was this beautiful man made the heat pool between her legs even more so.

Curious as to what he would do, she slid her hand between them, running it down his chest as she had done many times before in their fittings, and he stopped kissing her. Instead, he watched the trail of her hand, both their chests heaving in tandem as her hand traveled still lower, stopping at the waist of his jeans. She looked up at him questioningly.

"Please don't tease," he uttered painfully.

She giggled and ran her hand over the denim bulge and grasped what she could. Impressive didn't begin to describe it. He let out a strangled moan, and she darted her eyes up to meet his. They were closed and there was a look of pleasure on his face. Taking that as her hint, she ran her fingers along his cloth-enclosed length a few times more.

But he stopped her quite suddenly, his hands grasping her waist firmly as he maneuvered her backward. She wasn't very aware of her surroundings at the moment and couldn't orientate herself with anything. Neither did she think about where they actually were nor how someone could walk in at any moment.

The backs of her calves hit cushion, her question answered. The couch in the work room was old and dingy, but it suited their apparent purpose quite well.

There was no way he was leaving now. Hopefully _he_ wasn't just playing with her.

His fingers slipped up underneath her shirt, but they didn't stray any further than her waist until they began lifting the shirt with their progress, mapping out her body. She moaned, shivering at his touch, and he seemed pleased with himself.

The shirt came off over her head and was thrown somewhere within the room, and a moment of perfect clarity settled in her head. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back, making him stop the unusually erotic way his fingers were holding her head in place. He moved back reluctantly, a questioning look on his face.

She held up a finger signaling that he had to wait a minute. It also gave her time to gather her wits. "The costume needs to come off."

"Oh," he said. "I have no problem with that. Whatsoever. Nope."

Benny giggled, her hands finding the half-done buttons on his chest; his hands found the button and zipper on his fly and he made short work of dropping them.

And his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

The fact she knew what brand he wore simple because the elastic always seemed to find its way over the waist of his jeans was startling. She didn't even know why and when she had catalogued that information, but she had.

Benny stopped for a moment, considering what was in front of her. She wasn't new to this, but she had never seen a male appendage look beautiful. However, she supposed it had to match the owner.

Unable to stop herself, she reached out and grabbed him at the base. He sucked in a sharp breath of air, closing his eyes. She grinned. Releasing her grasp made him open his eyes and she squatted down in front of him. She watched as his eyes grew expectant for a minute, but became discouraged when she did not stop at what he wanted.

Instead, she reached down and told him to lift his feet so she could get the pants off. He complied begrudgingly, and on her way back up, she stopped for a moment, running her tongue base to tip experimentally before placing a few kisses on his chest. She tossed the jeans over the back of the chair beside them and turned to face him again. He had divested the shirt when she had been paying attention to his pants. Now completely nude, she had to step back and look at the man.

Yes, indeed. He was a work of art. The muse that had worked with his parents' genetic fabric certainly knew what she was doing.

"Your nipples are perfect," she said without thinking.

"Huh?" he asked hazily.

She stepped up to him and dipped her head to the right, flicking her tongue out at the already hard nub, then biting before laving her tongue across it to soothe the slight sting she had caused. He moaned.

Benny stepped back from him again, but did not remove her hand from his cock, so he followed her and sat down on the couch. This movement was the great equalizer; she suddenly didn't feel so overwhelmed by him.

His arms were long, though, and his fingers dug into her hips, pulling her down on top of him before she could kick off her own pants. But that didn't impede him as his hands swept up slightly and plunged beneath the layer of her pants and knickers, his long fingers curling up and finding her nub there.

Benny felt pleasure bolt through her body, and she ground into him, closing her eyes and bracing herself with a hand on his chest. He moved his hand again, slipping further down, using the heel of his hand to grind against her. But this wasn't enough contact. She knew what she needed. And so did he. Suddenly his hand left her, fingers catching the waist of her garments, pulling them down. She stood up on shaky legs, brushing the pants and underwear down and kicking them away before depositing herself back on his lap, straddling him.

She reached behind herself and undid the closures of her bra. His eyes glazed over for a minute and Benny almost laughed at his reaction. Fleetingly noting that he was, indeed, a boob man, she forgot all about it when his hands were on them, cupping and teasing and pinching. He stopped suddenly, though, and looked at her, his blue gaze telling.

He wanted her to make the next move. He wanted her to tell him she wanted this.

And god did she. Shifting up on her knees, she moved over him and his hands were again on her hips, guiding her to settling herself over him.

Benny had never felt anything so filling or so amazing. She was truly stretched to the limit, and she could not help the long groan of pleasure that escaped her lips as she settled onto him, or the fact that her head lulled back in mind-boggling bliss. His lips found her neck, coaxing her to look back at him. She met his eyes, finding his gaze molten now. She moved her hips, slowly at first, but his hands guided her at the pace he set, not allowing her to go any faster or slower than he wanted. Benny found it incredibly hot. She wanted to go faster, to find her own release, but he stopped her from doing so.

She leaned into him, kissing his lips playfully again, hoping to distract him. But she couldn't. That was when he removed one hand from her hips and moved it back between them, his thumb slipping between their moving bodies and stroking, lighting a white-hot fire throughout her entire body.

She hadn't realized how far gone she'd been, but it took him only a few flicks of his finger, and she was sent spiraling out of control. Her fingers dug into his chest, the nails scratching slightly and leaving half moon welts. His hands found her neck and circled behind her head, his fingers lacing up in her hair. Carefully, he laid her back on the couch, and pinned her in place, never breaking their contact. With smooth movements, he began moving in and out of her with more force and much more speed. Benny could feel a second release building up in the pit of her stomach, the coil waiting to snap.

When it did snap the second time, one of his large hands steadied her by resting on her abdomen with the other on her thigh as his own body was wracked with the completion of his orgasm. He leaned over her, keening lowly in her ear. It was a most lovely groan and grumble combined together.

He was panting as he scooped her back up, still together, and lay back on the couch. In her post-coitus haze, Benny thought it actually rather sweet that he had made sure before he fell down from heady exhaustion, nearly already asleep from their play, that he was on the bottom and she on the top so she did not get crushed. She knew, logically, she wouldn't as she was a sturdier girl, but it was nice nonetheless.

But as their bodies slowly began to return to their normal state, so did the reality of the situation.

"I'm confused," she muttered. "You've never shown any interest in me before."

He let out a huff of air. "I've been trying to get you to pay attention to me since we started filming this season."

"But..." she said, thinking back on her work this season. Now that she thought about it, it did seem like he was always in her line of sight whenever she was out of the work room. And when he was, he was usually laying it on incredibly thick with the women around him. Whether it was to make her jealous or to try to show her what he wanted to do with her, she didn't know, but it made sense now. "Why me?"

"Because you _aren't_ the Fun Bag Twins," he said.

Benny lifted her head from his chest and looked down at him. She thought she might have something to say, but nothing came to mind. Resting her head back down on his chest, she listened to the even beating of his heart.

"Are you going to have dinner with me now?" he asked, pulling her out of her hazy, pleased state.

She chuckled lazily. "What did you have in mind?"

"Craft services," he said. "I have call in a couple hours. It's not worth it going elsewhere."

"Oh, be still my beating heart," she replied.

He laughed. "I promise to take you out properly later, but craft services is all I've got."

She smiled and lifted her head to look at him. "You throw in a cappuccino from the coffee bar, I'm yours."

"A cappuccino?" he asked. "That's all it took?"

Benny carefully lifted herself off of him, and stood up on still-shaky limbs to look for her clothes. She did say a prayer that no one had walked in on them, and by all accounts it didn't appear that anyone had... which was rare in a studio. It was usually always teaming with people.

Later, as they were getting ready to leave the work room for craft services, Benny found that the door had been locked and barricaded from the inside. Alexander had given her a sheepish look and held his hands up defensively.

Somehow, she wasn't angry.

She considered the nail marks on his chest enough punishment for made such a plan and implementing it, especially when the makeup department started complaining that they couldn't cover them adequately with makeup to do the scene.

Alexander received a rather severe tongue lashing for allowing it to happen, knowing he would be filming later that evening.

Benny had been on set then, doing last minute alterations, and had heard the kerfuffle. She grinned to herself, trying not the swallow the straight pins she was holding between her lips.

When Alexander had been released from the Fun Bag Twins' clutches, he made a wide berth around where he needed to go and paused by her. He leaned down and whispered, "You owe me."

Benny looked at him blankly. "We'll see about that."

With that, he walked away, shaking his head to take his spot in front of the camera beside Anna.

Benny grinned. She had no idea what she was doing, but she liked it. And she was thankful that he was only European.


End file.
